


Consumed by Darkness

by Melonbread96



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Shadow Manipulation, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melonbread96/pseuds/Melonbread96
Summary: Wilson is desperately trying to survive, and he's fairly new to this world. The only thing in his way, is the dangerous temperatures and the creatures. He also has something far more dangerous following him, the demon doesn't seem to leave him alone.If only he could just survive winter, with only the worries of starvation.





	Consumed by Darkness

His camp wasn't that big, but was livable. Wilson had some vegetables growing in the garden, along with berries that were ready for harvest. The only thing he was missing was meat. He'd need it, if he wanted enough food for the winter. There was a few drying racks up, that'll help preserve his food. Wilson didn't have the gears to craft a fridge. The last time that he tried, he almost didn't come out alive. He hated the clockworks, that guarded some territory, for no particular reason. Spiders were handy as food, but he made sure to camp away from them. It wasn't a warm welcome, to wake up to the beasts. He could only think of one dangerous trip, and he made some armor for the journey. There was other supplies he would take with him, Chester was prepared to go.

Wilson went through his supplies one more time, before going off for his trip. The swamp wasn't the safest place for obvious reason. Whenever he was lucky, he'd find food that wasn't taken. He reached the borderline, and the mud seeped onto his boots. There's several options to choose from, but he decided to act now. Wilson could wait for daylight, because he spent most of it during his hike. Dusk came around, making the swamp even darker. The desperation for meat was getting to him, and he made his way into the dangerous place. An abundance of reeds was useful, whenever he needed them for healing purposes. He noticed a bunch of merman fighting those tentacle monsters. Wilson bide his time, preferring not to leap into danger.

"You can't catch me!" shouted Wilson once he grabbed some of the meat from the tentacle. The mermen didn't eat meat, so it was just lying there. He ran laps around them, which they couldn't really keep up. Wilson couldn't make a mistake, because that's all it would take to get hit. This meat would last him awhile, though not the entire winter. A slight error was made, once he realized nighttime was coming. The swamp wasn't a good place to camp, so he made himself a torch. He was walking carefully, and searching for the road. Wilson was lost, and panic surged through his chest. No matter how hard he tried, it was difficult not to be scared. His meat was still in his bag, and somehow it didn't seem worth it.

A sound could be heard, until a sharp pain stung through his side. Wilson fell, and another hit got him in the arm. He screamed and the torch fell to the ground. The darkness consumed him, when he ran away from the thing hurting him. This wasn't good, an unknown thing would attack him in the darkness, he called it the The Grue. Something grabbed him, making him scream and struggle. "Say Pal, is that how you greet a friend?" asked the very man, Wilson wish he never met. Maxwell light a cigar, the dim light was hardly anything, it also didn't look natural. His focus wasn't on him, but something else in the darkness, "Go away Charlie, this is business between us." The thing didn't listen, and Maxwell did something to make it go away. Wilson recognize the shadow manipulation, and shivered in repulse. He hated those things.

"I saved your life Pal, you should thank me," grinned Maxwell, which only made Wilson glare at him.

"I was just doing fine on my own," Wilson pointed out, but that wasn't true. He was in danger, and the jerk helped him.

Maxwell laughed terrifyingly, making Wilson backup, and with one hand in his backpack. This amused the magician to no end, "Now that I saved you, I'll be taking something in return."

The scientist didn't like the sound of that, and decided to take matters to his own hands. A torch was lit, making Maxwell stagger away. Wilson watched as his face twisted into an angry glare. This surprised him, and then he put the torch closer to the demon. This made Maxwell back up even more, and growling at him. It was a warning, but not one that Wilson would listen to. "You don't like light," smirked Wilson, as he started walking more towards him. This angered Maxwell to no end, and the guy started threatening him, "Put that away, you damn fool. I'm going to take what's rightfully mine, don't make this harder on yourself." This only made Wilson smile evilly at him, and waved the torch vigorously, just to make Maxwell back away further.

"I don't think so, it doesn't matter what you did. I'm not giving you anything," said Wilson proudly, mostly for sticking up the demon.

"You'll regret this, mark my word," uttered Maxwell until he disappeared into the darkness.

The sun started to rise, meaning that he survived the night. Wilson went back for the torch he had dropped. He realized what had attacked him, a tentacle monster of all things. It almost got him again, when he fetched the hunk of wood. Wilson felt exhausted, but he had to make his way back to camp. The hike took some time, and when he went back, he realized his error in camping. A swarm of turkeys was eating his precious berries. There was a more abundance in fruit, then there was vegetables. He had injuries to patch up, and he didn't feel like chasing them. Wilson went to his lowly crock pot, and started making a stew. His stomach growled, and the hunger pains started up.

"Stupid bird brains," complained Wilson, and usually seeing them was a blessing. Meat was sometimes hard to come by, and turkeys tasted really good. It just wasn't his luck, that those birds chose to eat the majority of his food supplies. The vegetables made the monster meat more edible, and the juices made his mouth water. There was plenty of water, from the pond nearby. Wilson hated fighting those frogs, and the meat wasn't very much. He stirred his meal, knowing that it won't be enough. A thought kept popping up in his head, only making him slightly upset and happy at the same time. Maxwell liked to mess with him, but he finally found a weakness. It didn't matter that the demon helped him, even if Maxwell thinks he saved his life. Wilson would've found a way to make it out of the swamp, at least that's what he kept telling himself.

His eyes landed on the hammer, and he started to get ideas. Being a scientist, it didn't sit well with him to do nothing. There's always solutions and theories to form in his mind. A new scenery would be useful, but he needed to heal first. His honey supply was low, there wasn't another way around it. The reeds were crafted into papyrus, then he made himself medicine out of the honey. Once his arm was bounded up, he was glad the damage wasn't worse. The turkeys were off somewhere, probably not that far. If he was smart, he'd try to figure out a way to get them. It was necessary for the long trip, and he had been thinking of going to an unexplored area. This was so risky, and Wilson hardly traveled far during the winter. He'd require more food, that he didn't really have, and would be wasting so much energy.

"I won't last long anyways," muttered Wilson to himself.

The decision was made, he'd hunt turkeys and leave his camp. Wilson couldn't take everything, and eventually he'd come back for his old stuff. A bush hat was placed over his head, thankfully that was in his backpack. He tracked where the birds had gone, and as he had predicted, they weren't very far. His body squeezed together, as he ducked down. A bird approached him, and started to learn forward. His spear went through it's throat, and alarmed the other birds. Wilson did try to get more turkey meat, but the one turkey would have to do. He gathered his supplies, put a lot of it into Chester. His loyal companion happily listened to him, "Everything is going to be okay, we'll get through this. It is a long hike, but I promise it'll be worth it." A hand gently patted Chester's head, and the dog like creature loved the attention.

His machine was broken down, mostly harvested for it's gold. Wilson gathered his things, and decided to travel at night. There was still some left over stew, which he sipped through a beefalo flask. His feet were tired, and he wanted sleep. Wilson couldn't afford a break, so he started to make his way through the dark. He knew his sanity had gotten down, this made scary looking eyes popped through his vision. Every time he visited the swamp, this seemed to happen. The creatures that lived in such a place, probably caused this odd condition. Wilson pushed onward, hoping to make it to his destination. His stew was gone, he'd eaten it through the entire night. When morning came, this is when he really grew extremely tired. He took a short break, taking a nap next to a tree. Chester nuzzled him, and allowed Wilson to use him as a pillow.

He'd probably only napped for a couple hours, before exploring again. Wilson found some mushrooms, which he planned to cook later. His hunger pains were growing stronger, but he had to ignore it. A road came into view, and he followed it into the unknown. Chester happily bounded behind him, and he tried to be more optimistic. "It's going to have so much food, and we'll be more safe. You'll see Chester, this is the logical decision," Wilson assured Chester, though mostly to himself. He didn't really have anyone else to talk to, and it might seem crazy, but Chester is his only loyal companion. His talks were always one sided, this suited Wilson just fine. Dusk came, and he found some berries along the way. Wilson always found an opportunity to look for supplies.

It was getting late again, and he made a temporary fire. His roasted vegetables weren't that bad, and he'd save the berries for later. Wilson eventually grew tired, and fell asleep during the night. Something woke him up, and he heard some kind of music. It sounded eerie, but he wasn't fully awake. What he saw alarmed him, making his heart race and him jumping to his feet. A pair of hands were reaching for the fire, making him think of the shadows. They scared him, but he couldn't help as he watched. The first hand took some fire, almost pitching the place to complete darkness. "No!" screamed Wilson, as he ran at the other hand, making it run back. He open up Chester quickly, and time was running out. A few twigs were tossed in, just in time as his fire almost went out. The hand came back, and only one thing stopped him, from completely running it to the darkness.

"Why are you doing this?" shouted Wilson, once he spotted a pair of red eyes. Maxwell was taunting him, that's how Wilson felt. The demon was enjoying his misery, and this made him even more upset.

"You still owe me," Maxwell pointed out, with his sharp teeth showing.

"I don't owe you anything," Wilson spat, seething that the demon demanded anything from him. A log was toss into the fire, making sure he'd make it through the night. There was so many things he wanted to say to Maxwell, none of them pleasant, "You dragged me into this world, you don't get to have anything from me."

"You're wrong about that pal," said Maxwell with a grin, and continued talking, "You've always been mine to collect."

This sent shivers down Wilson's spine, and he quickly dug through his bag. His supplies were usually only used if necessary, but Wilson was too angry to care. He lit a torch and threw it in Maxwell's direction. A painful scream could be heard, making Wilson feel satisfied. The darkness was leaving soon, and daylight would come. Maxwell sent one angry glare, before disappearing. This probably wouldn't be the last time he sees him, but he was satisfied with the results. When morning did come, Wilson ate some breakfast. He only had one beef jerk, and a carrot left. The berries weren't going to be touched, as he kept reminding himself.

His hike continued, with Chester trailing behind him. Something finally came into view, and the sight startled him. A bunch of houses were around, but they weren't inhabited by people. These pig like men were walking around, and Wilson was worried about his safely. He walked over cautiously, not knowing if they're friendly. The pigs didn't like him at first, telling him he should go away. There was no attacks, so Wilson wrote down that they're neutral. His meat supply was low, but he wanted to make possible friend. When he brought out the monster meat, that's when things got interesting. They immediately decided to be friends, and even help him chop down some wood.

His camp was made much easier, with his new friends. The pigs weren't bad company, and he made everything near their homes. He heard the dogs coming, this was always a blessing and a curse. The dogs provided meat, but they also tried to kill him. Wilson hadn't expected the pigs to help, they found along side each other. His spear manage to take one dog down, and all the meat was gathered. This fight solidify their friendship, and he felt like the trip was worth it. One of the pigs were injured, and he used the last of his honey to heal his wounds. The pigs thought he was some kind of shaman, and they made him a part of their pack. Wilson couldn't have been happier, to live with more creatures around.

When nighttime came, he already set up his machine and fire pit. All of the pigs went inside their homes, and didn't come out. The hands hadn't showed up, but Wilson expected it was a matter of time. He needed sleep, but he was also afraid of them appearing. His body eventually caved in, giving into the sleep he desperately needed. Wilson woke up, to a more terrifying sight. Something was wrapped around his ankle, and pulling him away from the light. This was the very hand, that he was worried about. His body was almost fully in the darkness, Maxwell was waiting for him to come closer. The only thing that saved him, was the torch he kept on himself. Once he'd learned the demon's weakness, he made sure to never leave without one. His light made the hand disappear, and Maxwell looked displeased.

"Find someone else to torment," hissed Wilson, who felt extremely hateful towards the demon.

"What would be the fun in that?" asked Maxwell, a cheeky smirk on his face.

This only made Wilson glare at him, and moved very far away from the darkness. Chester only stirred a little, before going back to sleep. Maxwell and Wilson were having a staring contest, and daylight was coming. He didn't know why the demon chose him, tortured him whenever it was possible. "I hate you," seethed Wilson quietly, and the words were almost a whisper. This only made Maxwell chuckle, and disappear after saying a few words, "You'll learn to love me, I promise." He at least got some rest, but it would be more difficult in the future. The pigs came out of their homes, eagerly greeting him. They made harvesting easier, and fought any dangers that was near the camp. Wilson felt safe, except for when nightfall came. 

There was birch nuts around these planes, and he never saw them before. They could be used for planting or eating. He tried eating them raw, but only made himself terribly sick. His stomach emptied out the contents, and some of his breakfast went with it. Wilson had made jam out of the berries, and it was a pleasant treat. He'd even share some with the pigs, and in return the pigs shared their food. This was the closet feeling to home, and he'd probably never want to leave. Something was brewing, but Wilson didn't know that. He'd gather some honey, with the help of the pigs. With the five of them, the stinging fiends didn't stand a chance. It was useful to stock up on healing supplies, and he noticed dusk was coming.

The pigs started to panic a little, since they didn't like the dark. Wilson reassured them, and continued to walk home. This time the pigs didn't enter their homes, and were wandering around. He didn't see the signs, and he couldn't predict what was happening. Nighttime came, and Wilson was prepared to make a fire. The full moon lit up the place, making it unnecessary for a fire. Wilson wanted to point this out to his new friends, but his giddiness disappeared. He watched as the pigs shifted, screaming in pure agony during it. Once the change was finished, they started running at him. No matter how much he shouted, and told them who he was, they continued to give chase. He kept running, and without a certain route in mind.

Things only got worse from their, he could see Maxwell watching. An amused look on his face, as the pigs tried to tear Wilson apart. The moonlight didn't hurt the demon, it's probably the only light that didn't. Wilson should have been more careful, but his eyes couldn't help it. He kept looking towards the demon, until his feet slip. The pain tore into his back, and he screamed helplessly. It suddenly stopped, and there was a different scream. Those pigs eventually quieted down, and Wilson laid there bleeding. He could hear feet walking over to him, and they only belonged to one person. "Be careful of who you trust, you never know who's out to get you," scolded Maxwell, but only doing it very halfheartedly.

A slick feeling went onto his back, and realized Maxwell was using some kind of healing salve. His shirt was torn open from the back, which Maxwell took the time to tear it further. Wilson tried to protest, his strength was however fading him. There was dark spots in his vision, and eventually he passed out. It was bright when he woke up, his entire body ached. Wilson wasn't sure how long he slept, the pigs weren't around. The trail of blood caught his interest, some of it was his own. His back still hurt, he felt something when he reached back. Someone had bandage him up, and it's better than the papyrus that he uses. It's a startling realization, as he thinks about the last person that was with him.

His shirt was torn to shreds, and he didn't have a replacement for it. Those pigs did a large amount of damage on his skin, but he's got a feeling that Maxwell did worse to them. It's a weird feeling to be grateful, as he went back to camp slowly. Chester was destroyed, his eye-bone was closed. Those pigs turned into beasts, and grew fur during the full moon. Wilson wrote those notes down, wasting some more precious papyrus. It was pointless to write everything, but having research notes, was the last thing to make him feel like a scientist. He didn't want to admit it, he really did owe Maxwell his life. Wilson hated the man for bringing him here, plotted to find a way to kill the demon. If he didn't die before that could ever happen.

The pigs were near their homes, someone put them into a pile. It was a grotesque site, with their bodies mutilated. He was a survivalist now, Wilson couldn't be picky. His family would now become his dinner, it was for the best. Wilson took his time making new drying racks, and broke down their houses to do it. The meat laid out for him, and then it started to snow. This was almost iconic, the start of something new. His crops were harvested, and some of them didn't grow to maturity. The cold would kill them anyways, and Wilson had to work with the meager amount of vegetation he had. He'd go out to look for more food later, once his wounds had healed for awhile. Everything in his life has always been complicated, even more so, being thrown into this world.

Wilson made himself a meal, mostly of pig meat and carrots. His belly was full, and he laid on his side. The bandages helped, and he needed to change them before he slept. It was dusk, and slowly turning into night. He waited for him, the demon always showed up. "Looks like you made use of my gift, this time you can't deny that I spared you," Maxwell remarked on the night before, this time Wilson didn't disagree. The scientist got up, despite the pain, and wanting to just sleep. This demon wanted something from him, trying so hard to drag him into the darkness. Wilson did the unexpected, and started walking away from the light. The darkness consumed him, making Maxwell grin even louder.

"Well aren't you bold? Finally decided to give me what I want?" asked Maxwell who seemed satisfied with Wilson's obedience.

"What exactly do you want?" questioned Wilson, the pain started seep through his muscles.

"You," said the demon, before the hands grabbed Wilson. This time he didn't fight it, he allowed Maxwell to pull him closer.

The bandages were pulled off, and some sharp nails dug into the wounds. Wilson could smell the iron in the air, and started to protest. He was now facing towards the fire, away from Maxwell. The body was still behind him, those hands were holding him into place, where he was down to his hands and knees. A tongue glided on his back, making him gasp. The slickness made him shiver, as the coldness of the air washed over him. Wilson still didn't have a shirt, but the darkness was taking all of his protests. It covered his lips, and the shadow tasted like ink on his tongue. The licking didn't stop, the shadows seeped deeper into his mouth. This didn't taste that bad, but it was really weird.

Maxwell turned him around, he could see the demon's red eyes. Wilson bit him at first, surprised by the sudden intrusion. The tongue slipped through, and Maxwell ignored being bitten. His body started to relax, almost feeling apologetic for hurting the demon. It didn't seem like Maxwell was all that hurt, especially as he thrusted his tongue around. A moan rumbled down Wilson's throat, the demon could feel it. They pulled apart, and he was gasping for breath. "A little eager are we?" teased Maxwell, as he finally let Wilson go. The pain was forgotten, in fact, he didn't feel it anymore. He was confused on why Maxwell stopped, and ashamed that he enjoyed it. His life could never be simple, and the hands let him go.

"Get some rest, I'll collect some more tomorrow," said Maxwell who disappeared without a trace.

Wilson went back towards the light, his sanity was in question. He touched his back, the bandages were clearly gone. This was startling, the wounds weren't there anymore. Maxwell put some dark magic, that somehow cured him. The scientist use to think magic was fake, a way to trick the public. There was always science to explain the mysterious of life, this was something he couldn't explain. His chest felt heavy, sleep didn't really come easily. When he woke up, he went back to work. There was food to forage, and things to make. Something caught his eye, when he started gathering his things. It made his mouth water, and wondered why he was given this.

"I'm still not your friend, though this is nice," uttered Wilson to himself, but talking like Maxwell was around.

Chester only nudge him for some petting, which Wilson always obliged. The tasty honey ham, with a side of potatoes was nice. Those healing properties of honey worked out any of his aches, and only in this world had magical healing properties in the food. Wilson licked his lips, treasuring the taste. The food gave him all the energy he needed, and decided to make a trip back to his old camp. It would take a couple nights, just like last time. Chester gladly went on the adventure with him. When night came, Wilson made a fire. Maxwell came and greeted him like usual. He walked into the darkness, into the grasp of a demon.

"Open your mouth," insisted Maxwell, this made Wilson very hesitant.

When he was told to close his eyes, it made him nervous. His mouth was wide open, and even if he peeked, he could barely see. Something slippery was pushed past his gums, then he was told to swallow it. Wilson immediately thought it was eyeballs, and wasn't sure if he wanted to risk eating it. Maxwell petted his head, encouraging him to eat. If this was something bad, he could spit it out later. The taste burst into his mouth, then making him relax. It was familiar, and Maxwell pushed more into his mouth. He could feel the hands wrapped around him, almost like it's by instinct. They didn't hurt, and it gently touched his skin.

"Do you like it?" asked Maxwell, and he watched the scientist very curiously.

"What is it?" Wilson replied with a question, as another was put into his mouth.

He couldn't see Maxwell grinning, before the demon spoke, "blood sacs."

The horrified look on Wilson's face was worth it. His eyes were open now, and he already ate the thing in his mouth. Maxwell pulled out a grape, in a very teasing manner. This made Wilson feel relieved, but also glaring at the demon for tricking him. A bag full of grapes was put in his lap, they clearly didn't come from this world. Maxwell told him to get some rest, he'd arrive the next night. It was the end of things for now, and Wilson went back to the light. He was still sleepy, and being around Maxwell drained his sanity. There was a short detour from his way towards camp. Wilson went to a place full of bees and flowers, he made himself a crown. It felt nice to regain some of that happiness.

The pollen tickled his nose, but also reminded him of his morality. Wilson needed to be careful, the demon could drive him to madness. Another night came, after he made his way towards the right path. The detour didn't take long, and he felt much better than before. Maxwell chuckled at his appearance, and brought him a different gift. His skin was starting to get red, mostly from the sun bearing down at him. The shirt was tossed at him, hitting him in the face. Maxwell didn't even wait for him to leave the light, and was amused to see Wilson turning red. It fit the scientist perfectly, like the magician knew his exact size. This bothered him a little, but he appreciated it none the less.

"It looks good on you, come here. I've got a vest that would look even better," Maxwell said enticingly, which Wilson obeyed.

He should be more cautious, Wilson was dealing with a demon. The vest was a very dark red, it reminded him of blood. This suited the white shirt just fine, and was similar to his old clothes. A hand drew his face up, and it wasn't from the shadow hands. Maxwell tasted him, and he didn't even fight it. Their lips tangled, and a low moan escaped when they stopped. His hands were clutching Maxwell's clothes. This was wrong, he should be hating the demon. Maxwell had taken everything from, made him suffer in this world. It almost seemed fitting that he'd get lost in the darkness, like someone was pulling his strings. He was only along for the ride. Those lips pressed into his temple, and towards his neck.

"It will get harder to see you, would you reconsider going back to camp?" asked Maxwell, the demon hoped to persuade him.

"I'm only getting my old supplies," Wilson pointed out, and he really did leave some important things.

"Do it for me, let's go back," pleaded Maxwell, though it sounded more like a demand.

He only thought Maxwell was being silly, and laid in the demon's arms. Wilson was getting tired, the demon could sense it. "Think of what I said," uttered Maxwell, who departed after setting him down. It really wouldn't take long, it's not like the demon would stop his visitations. Wilson decided to light a torch, he'd sleep later, and once he got everything back. Chester followed him eagerly, like a good loyal pet. His old camp came into view, and there was people there. A few things weren't smashed with his hammer, like his old crock pot. He didn't recognize the group, but he hadn't seen others in ages. Wilson was hesitating, not really sure if he should go over there.

There was only two decisions for him, he could either approach those people or head back to his new camp. This was difficult, because he's been craving the attention of others. He also knew what Maxwell had said was true. If he went to them, it would be difficult to be around Maxwell. It would be like saying goodbye to the demon.

'What should I do?' wondered the scientist, his torch was slowly growing dimmer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my best friend, I know she's having a difficult time. It's something I've talked about writing anyways, and this seems like the appropriate time to do it.
> 
> I was going to make this much darker, apparently I was in a much fluffier mood.
> 
> ~Melon
> 
> [ Follow me on Tumblr](https://melonbread96.tumblr.com)


End file.
